Of Blood and Hearts
by LOTRAragornObsessive
Summary: A couple of lovers that keep watch over a forest. When it gets invaded, who will they turn to but the warrior in the pair..? WARNING:Graphic violence, don't like, don't read.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the girl and the description of the Necromancer**_

_**I blame my friend for introducing me to the dress up game that gave me the inspiration for this. **_

_**Warning: Very creepy, lots of blood.**_

Of Blood and Hearts

The young woman lifts her head from the rock where she is resting at the sound of his voice. She swings her elegant legs off of the rocky ledge and sits up.

'Yes my love?' Her lilting voice bounces off the walls as she walks over and drapes her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers for a brief kiss. His arms wrap around her waist as he speaks.

'You may want to collect your dagger, our forest is being invaded.' He says, squinting as he looks out over the tree tops. The woman pulls back, walks over to the ledge and picks up a very blood-stained dagger from the base. As she passes, she collects one of the metal jars from the pile in the corner, tucking it under her arm as she walks back over.

'How many?' She asks.

'14.' The man replies with a smirk, knowing how easy this will be for her.

'Very well, expect me back by nightfall.' She says, kissing his cheek before vaulting over the wall and landing neatly on the forest floor, her black and white tattered skirt billowing about her as she falls gracefully through the air. She straightens up and looks above her, where her lover is gazing down. She smiles before taking off through the trees, stopping every now and again to sniff the air and change direction as needed.

Running across the forest floor with nothing but pitch black bandages on your feet had its advantages, especially if you were already dead. The woman swaps the jar to the other arm and tucks the dagger into one of the bandages on her feet as she stops to work out which way the travellers went. She hears them arguing and smirks to herself, vaulting up into one of the nearby trees and taking off towards them once more.

She soon pulls ahead of them and perches on the branch, waiting until they approach before dropping from the tree in front of the leader. The thirteen Dwarves and one Halfling stop dead in their tracks, before a couple of them towards the back of the group start saying that she is an apparition. She sighs in annoyance and the pollen seeds disperse. The Dwarves shake themselves and look around. The woman takes this as her chance to place the metal jar on the floor and subtly remove the dagger from where it rests by her ankle. As she straightens, the Dwarves look shocked to see her there. The leader steps over.

'Are you okay?' He asks, taking in her ripped and tattered skirt and bodice, and the scars and scratches that litter her torso, arms and legs, not to mention the stitches that litter joints and where arms and legs bend. She smiles softly, casting her eyes downward.

'I'm fine, but I am thirsty. Do you know if there is a stream or river nearby I could drink from?' She asks quietly. The Dwarf shakes his head.

'There is nothing for a few miles.' The Dwarf looks at her with pity.

'Oh. Okay. I guess you'll just have to do then.' She says, looking up with a wicked gleam in her eye, all previous fake innocence gone as she pulls the dagger from behind her back. She smirks wickedly as the Dwarves all draw their weapons. She loved it when they fought back.

The woman springs forward, neatly twirling out of the way of the leaders sword, slicing her dagger across his arm as she goes. He hisses in pain and she ducks another swing. She spins out of reach, dodging attacks from all sides, before springing up a tree, as nimble as a young deer. She watches in amusement as the Dwarves look around in confusion, before hissing violently and jumping down from her perch, landing silently behind one of the Dwarves. She grabs his head and pulls it sharply backwards, trusting in her speed. She clamps her hand over his mouth as he opens it to scream and sinks her pointed teeth into his neck, letting his blood flow out of the wound and into her mouth. She swallows hungrily. The woman can feel her captive getting weaker, so she draws back, neatly slitting his throat with her dagger. She turns and catches another Dwarf just as silently, pressing the steel of her dagger blade against his mouth to silence him before dealing him the same fate. She slits his throat and springs away as the Dwarves turn and see her. She parries and dodges blow after blow until she catches another off his guard. Slitting his throat and drinking his warm blood, she blocks a blow that would have been fatal, before spinning the dying Dwarf away from her and grabbing another. She continues this pattern, eyes glinting brighter at each fresh kill, occasionally jumping into a tree in order to get a better angle for attack.

Soon there is only the leader left. She drops down in front of him and he raises his sword to attack. She grabs the blade before it slices into her neck and easily pulls the sword from his grip, casting it to the floor. She catches him by the neck, lifting him easily.

'You should never have tried to fight back, you wouldn't have won. I am already dead.' She says with an evil smirk before lunging forward, forcing her teeth through his flesh, letting his screams echo off the trees so everyone in and near this forest would know that she killed again. As the body goes limp, she drops the Dwarf to the ground, and using the edge of her already blood stained hair to wipe the drops of blood from her chin. She walks back to the metal jar, before carefully unscrewing the lid and kneeling down by each body in turn, using her dagger to cut through flesh, muscle and bone, before deftly cutting their hearts out of their chest cavity, dropping each one into the jar with a wet flop. When all fourteen have been collected, she stood up, whistling for the spiders. She hears the scuttling of dozens of feet and springs away, her blood stained hair whipping behind her as she runs back to her lover.

When she reaches their home, she springs through the door, placing the jar in the corner as she steps silently up behind him.

'My love, our forest is ours again.' She turns. He turns with a loving smirk, taking in her blood spattered dress and her hair, which could have been artistically dyed with red if he didn't know better. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her forward and claiming her blood-stained lips with his. As the kiss ends, she rests her head on his shoulder and he looks down at the top of her head, love shining in his black eyes. The forest was theirs, she was safe, there was nothing he would rather have than this. The Necromancer smiles in satisfaction as together, they watch the sun set over Mirkwood.


End file.
